Ava’s POV**

It was past midnight when Damien texted me.

*My office. Now. Wear nothing but my shirt.*

My heart raced as I slipped out of bed. Mom had gone to sleep hours ago, her door closed at the end of the hallway. I pulled on one of Damien’s oversized button-down shirts — the one that smelled like him, dark and masculine — and nothing else. My nipples were already hard, brushing against the soft fabric with every step. My pussy was wet again, aching, still tender from the shower and the car earlier.

I crept downstairs quietly and pushed open the door to his home office.

Damien was sitting...